


Blackbird

by Butterfly



Series: Diamondback [2]
Category: due South
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-06-01
Updated: 2004-06-01
Packaged: 2017-10-17 13:31:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/177342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterfly/pseuds/Butterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The villain of the piece is revealed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blackbird

After a month and a half, the investigation had stalled. They'd found clues -- they'd found a veritable smorgasbord of clues, most of them completely contradictory, and at least half of them put in place by the villain of the piece, who they'd at least identified. _'Well done, by the way,'_ the Fraser in his head piped in.

And there _was_ a villain, which was a relief, because if for some reason Fraser had snapped and gone off on his own, Ray would be totally fucked ( _'Language, Ray.'_ ). More fucked than usual, and without even getting some. Which, to be honest, was normal enough.

But Fraser had gone to meet someone at a train station. He'd boarded a southbound train with a beautiful, dark-haired woman who really should have known by now to cut her hair. The train thing had reminded Ray of something that he'd read in Vecchio's files, and he'd gotten Welsh to fill him in.

Once he'd _been_ filled in, he kinda wished that he hadn't asked. He'd known that Vecchio had shot Fraser, because there was a report, because, as Welsh said, 'oddly enough, people in official places like to have an explanation for that kind of behavior from our officers'. So he'd known. Only he hadn't had a fucking _clue_ about poetry-inspiring bank robber chick. Fraser had been accidentally shot while apprehending a criminal. That's what was on file. ( _'And you would never dream of carefully wording a report to keep me safe, would you, Ray?'_ )

Only Welsh had thought that this would be a good time to share _suspicions_.

And now Ray was sitting at his desk with the unpleasant feeling of being right.

Count 'em down -- there was the bounty hunter. Not lawless, but definitely operating in a different sphere of lawfulness than your average cop. There was Lady Shoes, who'd been a card shark, and yeah, Fraser may not have fallen for her, but he'd definitely been looking at her ass. Now there was Victoria Metcalf.

Or maybe it'd be more accurate to say that _first_ there was Victoria Metcalf.

Fraser had the worst taste in women of anyone that Ray had met. Of anyone that Ray had heard of, and this was counting everyone who'd ever dated Madonna.

So they knew the who. They knew the why, even. Turnbull had remembered that before Fraser's odd behavior had started, he'd received a letter. Of course, Fraser had apparently taken the letter with him when he'd gone -- thanks a lot, buddy. But that was the... the precipitating event -- ( _'It's sweet that you're keeping up your studies in my absence, Ray.'_ ). And Ray only barely refrained from complaining aloud about Fraser's running commentary. He couldn't _help_ Fraser if people thought he was going nuts.

So, Dief had gone with Fraser, but the last time around, she'd shot him, so Ray was betting -- hoping ( _'That's better -- it's illegal to bet money in Illinois, you know that, Ray.'_ ) -- that Fraser would have done something to keep Dief safe.

But the Victoria trail led to a dead end -- her sister's property had been redistributed when the authorities had found out the real deal, and all her 'business' associates were dead. And they still hadn't found where Fraser had gotten _off_ the train, though it sure as hell hadn't been in New Orleans, where Ray'd wasted a week looking. A week in New Orleans and he hadn't been able to enjoy it on account of a missing Mountie. Typical ( _"Now, Ray, you don't really mean that."_ ).

And only Fraser could actually nag while being kidnapped and thus not around. At least Stella only complained in person. Also, at least when Stella complained, there was a chance they'd get naked together later.

Fuck, he didn't mean that. Fuck, maybe he did.

Now that they knew what was wrong, the Ice Queen had gotten over being mad and was just determined. Also, Ray had the sneaking suspicion that she was jealous, which was queer. Not like she'd _liked_ Fraser any. She hadn't even thought he was sane.

Which, granted, he wasn't always. At least, not Ice Queen-type sane, which Ray did not hold against him. Fraser was pretty much his own _definition_ of sane, which just didn't happen to match any previously recorded definition.

Fraser was unique. Irreplaceable. And if the Metcalf woman had hurt him, there was going to be serious... okay, serious jail time, but it would be _extremely_ serious. And there would be definite threats of being beaten up. While handcuffed. With Dief watching her. And laughing, because he was just that kind of wolf.

It was kinda funny that that was the exact same moment that Dief walked into his section of the station, followed by what seemed to be half the precinct.

Dief looked like hell, but he ran right up to Ray for a comforting hug. Fuck, but Dief was dirty... and thinner than normal. Had he eaten at all in the last month? Ray smoothed a hand over Dief's coat, pulling out a burr or two that was lodged in, and shot a look at Welsh, who had the same kind of stupid smile that Ray was starting to feel form on his own face.

Dief was back.

They had a fighting chance.


End file.
